


Draft Day

by JackNSallyGal, tamilprongspotter



Series: Marauders On Ice [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Is Hockey Adjacent Somehow, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Gen, NHL Entry Draft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-01-27 10:11:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12579400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackNSallyGal/pseuds/JackNSallyGal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamilprongspotter/pseuds/tamilprongspotter
Summary: James Potter's life is about to change forever. It's draft day, and if things go the way everyone thinks they will, he's on his way to an NHL team. It's James' moment and his future is bright. Why, then, does he feel like he's coming apart at the seams?





	1. James

**Author's Note:**

> We're going to have to ask you to make several assumptions:
> 
> -The Seattle Metropolitans join the NHL as the 32nd NHL franchise at the start of the 2020-2021 season. As such, their first draft as an organization is the 2020 Entry Draft.  
> -Ken King pissed off too many people in high places and the Calgary Flames return to Atlanta during the 2018-2019 season. We don't think this is relevant (immediately or later) to the plot, but need you to know this.  
> -James Potter and Peter Pettigrew grew up in San Jose during the 2000s-2010s, which means they have suffered through the best and worst years of the San Jose Sharks.
> 
> A word of warning: both coauthors of this fic have Strong Feelings about the Pens, Hawks, Kings, and Ducks and are not afraid to show it. If you are fond of any of these teams, we are probably going to rip on them more than you would probably like.
> 
> We hope you enjoy our #hottake on the Marauders playing hockey!

“Let’s go through the plan,” James said, hands shaking as he ground his teeth. He hadn’t slept the night before, nor did he see himself sleeping tonight. For all that he loved looking composed, he certainly hadn’t felt that way in nearly a year now.

There were still two hours before he had to report to the SAP Center for the draft and related interviews, and each second seemed to tick by slower than the last. He desperately wanted it to be over after so many years of hanging his hopes and dreams on this night, on his name being called, on a jersey and a hat being placed in his hands, on a whole new future. It was funny, if he really thought about it. After all of the time he’d spent looking forward to this moment like it would redeem him, like it would make everything he’d pushed himself through worth it in retrospect, he wanted nothing more than for it to be over.

“All right,” James’ father, who was already dressed, said, a tinge of worry in his voice. “We’ll head over to the arena an hour early to join Peter and so we can meet some of the other prospects’ parents, see who you’re competing with. We’ll find our seats while you get your business done. Then we’ll sit down together until the draft starts. After that, you get chosen and go off to do your own thing. Amma and I will come wait for you, we’ll hopefully get to talk to the team execs as well, and then we’ll leave when it’s over. Good?”

“Good.” James nodded, before pacing the length of the room, hands fisted in the pockets of his dress pants. His suit jacket and tie lay on the bed, ready to be put on just before leaving, and his mother was eyeing him suspiciously, just as uncomfortable in her dress as he was in his dress clothes. “Good. Okay. Just an hour before we leave then, one more hour.” He cracked his neck, exhaling harshly. “Right. One hour.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His mother asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” James ground out. “Just nervous. It’s-- It’s hitting me all at once, I think.”

“Come here.” His father said, and James plodded over, practically throwing himself into his father’s open arms. “I know this is really hard and scary for you. But you need to try to have a good time tonight. This is the beginning of your professional life, and you can’t let this be sad for you -- that’ll make the rest of it feel just as bad. I know it’s tough, but let’s find a reason to be happy now, okay?”

“Mhm.” James sniffled, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yep. Let’s find a reason.”

“I was hoping you had one, but I’ll try.” His father said. “Let’s see, this is proof that you were right about going to Red Deer. You wouldn’t be projected this high without going into the WHL. So we have your success in bantam, midget, and junior to be thankful for tonight.”

“You’ve been blessed with speed, intelligence, and strength, and tonight, you’re going to be given an opportunity to use all three to help out a team that needs you and your skill set to win,” his mother added. “A team is choosing to invest their future in you tonight, and whatever team that will be, we are all going to be happy with it. You wouldn’t have this opportunity if you went to college, so we’re thankful God put you on the right path early and gave you the intelligence to know what was right for you, even if we didn’t.”

“We’re all learning, Amma, it’s not on you or Appa,” James mumbled as his father rubbed circles into his back.

“We’ve been given an opportunity to learn, just like you have, through all of this.” He said. “And we have learned some more, through your junior career, and will learn more, as you advance professionally. Now, hockey isn’t something we’re familiar with, outside of your experience, but we’ll all have a good time.”

“Tonight is about celebrating you and all the hard work you put in.” James’ mother rose from her spot on the bed to join James and his father, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And you have worked so hard to get here. It’s hard to think that there’s nothing more that can be done, after having this as your focus for so long, but you have to. Everything will come together somehow, after tonight, and we’ll be lucky to have that. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” James whispered.

“Louder, please.” His mother said. “I’m not young anymore, and neither is your father.”

“Yes.” James said.

“Good.” She smiled. “Come along then. No sense waiting here any longer when we can explore the arena, yes?”

James nodded, disentangling himself from his father to put on his jacket and tie. He walked up to the mirror by the door, checked his hair one last time and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Right.” He said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s head out.”

“The future awaits, Mr. Potter.” His father said with a grin, holding the door open. “Go on.”

* * *

Success had always come easily to James Potter, had always settled around his shoulders like a warm blanket, soft and comfortable.

He had always been faster, stronger, and smarter than the other children his age, and his parents hadn’t shied away from reminding him of that often. It was no surprise then, that to such a child, success had become an expectation rather than a surprise. Like all things that are good and golden, that expectation had come at a price. Living under the iron fisted rule of anxiety, consumed by the weight of your own thoughts and potential consequences to hypothetical actions, wasn’t the sort of thing anyone thought about too deeply when they didn’t have to, and James was ready to award himself a doctorate.

Between moving out of his home at sixteen in the hopes of playing regular minutes with a major junior team in another country, and competing all of a sudden with players who had also grown up being the best on their teams, the most gifted and talented among their peers, James’ light had dimmed considerably. He’d made a few friends, here and there, but much less than he’d anticipated. He focused all his time on hockey, running drills longer than the rest of his friends, and spending far too long in the weight room in the hopes of packing some muscle onto his scrawny frame. Working hard wasn’t foreign to James Potter, but he’d always been a little too impulsive for his own good.

And now it had all come back to bite him today, as cameras flashed around him, reporters and fans alike watching him like hawks. He wanted, more than anything else in the world, to be just another eighteen year old in that moment. He wanted to be in the stands for another reason, wanted to be watching the draft simply because it was taking place in his hometown, not because anyone had designs on selecting him, on making him a figurehead of their franchise.

But here he was. He couldn’t change his past, couldn’t change the decisions he’d made that had brought him to this moment, but he could survive them. He could push through, shaking hands, sweaty palms and all, and by the end of the night it would all be over in a sense. By the end of the night, he would know where he would be starting his career.

By the end of the night, a new journey would start, but he didn’t want to think about that until he had to.

“So, you ready to do this?” Peter asked, nudging James’ shoulder.

He looked distinctly out of place all dressed up, but James knew well that it hadn’t even been a question to him when James had asked him to come along for moral support. He tugged at the knot of his tie, looking surprisingly carefree as he waited on James’ answer, watery blue eyes looking around the room.

“I mean… I don’t know, but I’ve got to.” James nudged Peter back. If anyone knew not to push him too hard, it was Peter, who’d grown up with James trailing behind him like a lost puppy. “How’d you do it? Stay calm, I mean? It’s been four years, I guess, so maybe you don’t remember, but… any help would be good.”

“I was too excited for calm.” Peter admitted. “Just kept reminding myself to enjoy the moment before it was over, you know?”

James nodded, still looking like he was talking himself into something, and Peter clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Once it’s done, you take a breather and remind yourself of all that hard work over the years. You’ve done so much to get here, Jamie.” Peter reminded his friend.

“I’ve worked hard, sure, but so has Black, so has Snape, so has Graeme, so has… everyone here, really, everyone eligible.” James hid his face in his hands. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“It’s a lot.” Peter confirmed. “You’re only in control of yourself though, right? Try not to worry about those guys. I know it’s not as simple as all of that, but all you can do is try, man.”

“The earliest I’m going is third, according to Sportsnet. Latest is seventh. So who’s that?” James took a deep breath, tearing his hands away from his face, before counting the picks off on his fingers. “First is Seattle, then Vegas, then LA.”

“Fuck LA.” Peter declared hotly. “They come up here to Sharks Territory and have the audacity to win the draft lottery? Despicable. Can we kick them out?”

“I know, right?” James rolled his eyes with a scowl, the first real display of personality anyone at the draft had seen from him thus far. “Fourth is St. Louis, then Edmonton at fifth, Vancouver at sixth, and Columbus at seventh.” He took a deep breath, obviously trying to keep calm. “Then there’s the Rangers, Philly, and the Yotes, but I don’t think I’ll go that low.”

“The Blues are looking for a defenseman.” Peter pointed out. “So it’s top three or Edmonton really.”

“Anywhere but Vancouver.” James said quietly, fiddling with his fingers. He kept his eyes averted, not thinking he could look right at Peter while voicing this particular thought aloud. “I can’t be rivals with you.”

“Hey,” Peter said easily, as if it was completely beyond the realm of possibility, “that won’t happen, okay? No way.”

“If you’re sure, man.” James nodded slowly, before casting a glance around the stands and leaning in, a conspiratorial grin on his face. “How’s talking with Seattle going? I know you said not to say much, since it’s not done yet, but I hope it’s all good.”

“Real good so far.” Peter couldn’t help but grin back. “Not a done deal, but it’s coming together.”

“The expansion draft’s over, so there’s some spots still open in camp, I’d bet. Maybe you’ll end up on a line with Sirius Black.” James said, unable to stop himself from smiling.

He wasn’t a naturally jealous boy, nor did he think he could be, and Sirius Black was not an exception to that rule. It was rare for anyone not playing in the USHL to make the U18 American team for Worlds, and, as two of the three who had, he and Sirius had become fast friends, their enthusiasm for the game and each other only amplified by the fact that they’d been a perfect match on the ice from the first second of training camp. The third American, of course, had been Severus Snape, who James rather disliked, and Sirius, unfortunately, thought was funny.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky enough to share a power play unit with Lupin. Oh my God. That’d be amazing.” Peter said, seemingly delighted by the idea. “Who knows, right?”

“Who knows.” James said, waving over his parents, who had finally found their row after spending far too much time speaking with the parents of some of his friends from junior. “You’re right.” It was funny how talking to Peter always seemed to make things better. “Nothing I can control beyond me anyhow. Just gotta enjoy it before it’s over.”

“That’s exactly right, man.” Peter said, giving James a firm one armed hug. “Just enjoy the ride.”

“Just enjoy the ride.” James repeated, nodding, as his parents shuffled past Peter to sit down next to him. “Yeah. I think I got it.”

* * *

“Seattle!” The commissioner called out above the crowd’s roars of disapproval, after an unnecessarily long winded speech about how everything was going to change despite everyone in the room knowing he was lying. “You’re on the clock!”

James fidgeted in his seat. While talking with Peter a few hours age had made him feel better, James was still a bundle of nerves, thinking up far too many scenarios in which he fell out of the draft entirely. His stomach, which had mysteriously settled earlier, was back to churning far too rapidly to be safe, and James thought he might lean over and vomit right onto his shoes if one more domino were to fall. The clock on the side of the stage counted down on Seattle’s pick, and with less than a minute remaining, Seattle’s General Manager, Albus Dumbledore, along with a few other executives and coaches, climbed the stairs to the stage, a jersey and hat in hand.

James cast a glance at Peter, who flashed him a big smile. His big moment was coming, and it was so much better with Peter by his side. He felt terrible still, but he couldn’t imagine taking on the world like this without Peter.

On stage, Albus Dumbledore approached the microphone, the smile on his face nearly hidden by his wispy white beard, and launched into a speech so long winded about the Expansion Draft that James felt about ready to lie down. As if suddenly noticing the bored faces around him, Dumbledore, with a mischievous grin, leaned into the microphone.

“With Seattle’s first pick of the 2020 NHL Entry Draft, we are proud to select, from Red Deer of the Western Hockey League, James Potter!”

James was in shock.

How had he been picked ahead of Sirius? Ahead of Snape? Ahead of all of the amazing players he’d gotten to know over the last few years? How, no, why had Seattle chosen him? Why had they picked him, out of all the boys eligible today, to join their team? Why had they wasted a pick on him?

He stood up without really realizing it, went through the motions of hugging his parents and Peter, and handed his suit jacket off to the handler that was waiting by their row to the stage, before following him down from the stands to the stage. He accepted his jersey and hat from one of the scouts, smiling as widely as he could, and pulled the jersey on, jamming the hat onto his head, before posing for pictures that he knew would be used for years to come.

First overall.

Him.

It felt unreal, but not the least bit wrong, which surprised him. He shook as many hands as he could before being ushered away for a seemingly endless stream of interviews, and found himself feeling happier and happier about being chosen as time went on. However, one last thing was weighing on him, stopping him from truly enjoying the moment, as Peter had been telling him to since morning, and he had to have an answer.

He nearly ran straight into the assistant general manager, a stern looking lady dressed in green tartan, and cleared his throat to get her attention. He only had a few minutes, and he had something important to ask. Cameras were trained on him, as they had been since the morning, but he didn’t care if anyone heard him.

“Excuse me?” James said hesitantly, and she turned around, a frown on her face. “Ms. McGonagall? Can I ask you something?”

Her expression softened at the nervous tremble in James’ voice. “What seems to be the issue, Mr. Potter?”

“Why did you pick me?” He asked, fighting down all the words that were threatening to burst out of him. “Sirius is a better player, and Snape’s better at the wing than I am. I’m-- I’m supposed to go fifth, not first, I don’t see-- I don’t see why--”

“You can’t honestly believe we made the wrong choice, Mr. Potter.” McGonagall said, sounding rather stern. She reminded him oddly of his mother. “We picked the best player available with the highest potential, according to our scouts. That was you. I understand this is a very stressful day for you, and there’s no need to worry about your friends. Black and Snape will be just fine, and Vegas and Los Angeles will be lucky to have them.”

“Thank you.” James said, nervousness still bubbling in his stomach, though he felt far more in control of himself than he had before. “That-- thank you.”

He carefully built up a sense of calm as he made his way through a set of pictures to be used on draft day cards, but that all came crashing down when they gathered the first three picks together for a picture on the draft floor. Sirius had been taken second, clad in Vegas’ gray, red, and gold, and Snape had been taken third by LA, wearing LA’s black, white and, silver.

“All right boys.” The cameraman said, and Sirius, at the last minute, shifted so James stood between him and Snape. “Number one, hold up a one. Two, do two. Three… ah, you get it.”

James held up one finger, doing his best to smile as Snape slung his arm around James’ shoulder, reminding him uncomfortably of the Prospect Game. He’d seen top three prospect pictures from so many years previous -- how had he forgotten that it would happen? Maybe he’d been hoping that Snape would’ve been taken later than third, but Snape was too talented to slip that low, especially considering LA’s weakness at forward. They wouldn’t have taken Graeme over him -- they had more than enough defensemen.

“Come on, number one, give us a good smile.” The cameraman wheedled. “You’ve made history and you’re looking like that? Try a little harder.”

“Come on, James.” Sirius teased, ruffling James’ carefully combed hair. For all he’d been brash and cocky on stage, an undercurrent of gentleness had wormed its way to the surface as he looked at James, something in his gray eyes softening. “Try harder.”

James tried a little harder to smile, rewarded by a “perfect” from the cameraman, who snapped a few more pictures.

“Perfect. Thanks, boys.”

The cameraman shot them a thumbs up, and they were all whisked away toward rooms in the back for more pictures, autographs, and interviews, and James hardly remembered any of it, caught in the haze of surprise at being chosen at all. Seattle. Seattle had wanted him. What was Edmonton going to do?

It wasn’t until he finished with all of the interviews and spotted the board listing the names of all of the selections and their teams, the name of a winger he knew by Edmonton’s logo, that he felt he could truly enjoy the idea that he would be going to Seattle. Edmonton was taken care of. He didn’t have to worry about them. He was going to Seattle, a team known for the same kind of playmaking offense that James had thrived in during his years at Red Deer.

The handler led him over to his parents, who joyfully embraced him, smiles on both of their faces. He couldn’t bring himself to match their enthusiasm, a bone deep tiredness draining all the conflicting emotions out of him. He could almost feel the stickiness of the things he had felt on his shoes, like rubber cement, rooting him to the ground.

He wanted to go to bed.

“Well done.” His father said, ruffling his hair.

A camera flashed as James genuinely laughed while reaching out for his mother, and he pulled her into his side, directing them to look toward it.

“Come on, Amma.” James said. “You’ve got to smile. People will be publishing this for years.”

“Years?” She wrinkled her nose. “I think not.”

“If I do well, it’ll be decades.” James said, prompting a smile. He forced the corners of his lips upward, tried to look a little more relaxed, and readied himself for the flash of the camera. “Let’s do this.”


	2. Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today was James’ day, but Peter’s mind was half here, half on his own career, and the deal blossoming with Seattle. As much as he’d told James to live in this moment, to absorb every detail because it’d fade from memory sooner than later, Peter couldn’t help but do the same for himself today. His first NHL contract. His time to shine. It was almost here, so close Peter could almost feel the weight of the jersey on his shoulders.

“So, you ready to do this?” Peter asked, nudging James’ shoulder. He looked a little worse for wear and swayed when Peter jostled him.

“I mean… I don’t know, but I’ve got to.” James nudged Peter back, more gently than Peter would’ve liked. He’d looked rather fragile, since coming home after Red Deer’s Memorial Cup run, and Peter had been worried, worried enough to take up every free moment of James’ time to try and get to the bottom of this. “How’d you do it? Stay calm, I mean? It’s been four years, I guess, so maybe you don’t remember, but… any help would be good.”

“Of course I remember. I was too excited for calm.” Peter admitted. He remembered the rush of nerves and excitement. Four years ago, he’d been in James’ shoes, facing his own future, and he could still remember it with startling clarity. “Just kept reminding myself to enjoy the moment before it was over, you know?”

James nodded, still looking like he was talking himself into something, and Peter clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Once it’s done, you take a breather and remind yourself of all that hard work over the years. You’ve done so much to get here, Jamie.” Peter reminded his friend. It was all too easy to remember them as kids, practicing tirelessly at the rink and then in Peter’s garage with old equipment. Always one more minute, one more shot before they were forced inside, or to do other things.

“I’ve worked hard, sure, but so has Black, so has Snape, so has Graeme, so has… Everyone here, really, everyone eligible.” James hid his face in his hands. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“It’s a lot.” Peter confirmed, hating that he could practically see James’ thoughts spiral, the way they tended to recently. “You’re only in control of yourself though, right? Try not to worry about those guys. I know it’s not as simple as all of that, but all you can do is try, man.”

“The earliest I’m going is third, according to Sportsnet. Latest is seventh. So who’s that?” James took a deep breath, steeling himself, before pulling his hands away from his face as if the idea of others seeing him caused him physical pain. “First is Seattle, then Vegas, then LA.”

“Fuck LA.” Peter declared hotly, the words old and familiar. Having grown up watching the Sharks, he and James practically had hating the Kings in their blood. It was something they could always fall back on, if they ran out of words -- there was nothing like a good “Fuck Dustin Brown” to lighten up any situation. “They come up here to Sharks Territory and have the audacity to win the draft lottery? Despicable. Can we kick them out?”

“I know, right?” James rolled his eyes with a scowl so fierce that Peter couldn’t help but smile a little. “Fourth is St. Louis, then Edmonton at fifth, Vancouver at sixth, and Columbus at seventh.” He took a deep breath. “Then there’s the Rangers, Philly and the Yotes, but I don’t think I’ll go that low.”

“The Blues are looking for a defenseman.” Peter pointed out thoughtfully. He considered the options briefly. “So it’s top three or Edmonton really.”

“Anywhere but Vancouver.” James said quietly, fiddling with his fingers. “I can’t be rivals with you.”

“Hey.” Peter said easily, as if it was completely beyond the realm of possibility. He knew it could very well happen, but there was no chance in hell he’d voice that to James. “That won’t happen, okay? No way.”

“If you’re sure, man.” James nodded slowly, before casting a glance around the stands and leaning in, a conspiratorial grin on his face. “How’s talking with Seattle going? I know you said not to say much, since it’s not done yet, but I hope it’s all good.”

“Real good so far.” Peter couldn’t help but grin back. “Not a done deal, but it’s coming together.”  

He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Today was James’ day, but Peter’s mind was half here, half on his own career, and the deal blossoming with Seattle. As much as he’d told James to live in this moment, to absorb every detail because it’d fade from memory sooner than later, Peter couldn’t help but do the same for himself today. His first NHL contract. His time to shine. It was almost here, so close Peter could almost feel the weight of the jersey on his shoulders. Thirty-one teams had passed on him, while he waited where James was sitting four years ago, and Peter was ready to show them they’d made the wrong choice.

“The expansion draft’s over, so there’s some spots still open in camp, I’d bet. Maybe you’ll end up on a line with Sirius Black.” James said, unable to stop himself from smiling. Peter smiled back, grateful for not only James’ support, but the open enthusiasm he had for Peter’s own career. It had always been like that between them, starting years ago when James, who had been twelve at the time, had been over the moon when Peter was drafted to the USHL. He remembered the day well, the way they’d hugged and crowed triumphantly, celebrating his success together.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky enough to share a power play unit with Lupin. Oh my god. That’d be amazing.” Peter said, seemingly delighted by the idea. He had extended family in Detroit, which meant hearing about the Wings and keeping track of players like Lupin, who was really making a name for himself. Peter intended to do the same for himself with Seattle, with a fresh start. “Who knows, right?”

“Who knows.” James said, waving over his parents, who had finally found their row. “You’re right.” “Nothing I can control beyond me anyhow. Just gotta enjoy it before it’s over.”

“That’s exactly right, man.” Peter said, giving James a firm one armed hug. “Just enjoy the ride.”

“Just enjoy the ride.” James repeated, nodding. “Yeah. I think I got it.”

* * *

“Now, Peter, you’ve seen this thing twice.” Mr. Potter said, pointing his fork at Peter. “Is it always like this?”

“Don’t do that.” His wife said, looking almost disgusted. “You’re eating. Keep the silverware where it belongs.”

Peter nodded, swallowing his bite of food and looking between James’ parents before answering.

“Yeah, it is. Pretty intense, right?”

“Very.” Mr. Potter said, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine waiting for your name to get called. Thankfully our James didn’t wait long, hm?” He smiled fondly at his son. “He’s always been a lucky boy.”

“We’re both so proud of you, James.” Peter’s mom, who always tried to get James to call her by her first name, Paula, said, speaking for herself and his dad, who nodded along silently.

“Thankfully.” James said earnestly. “It’s the best possible option, Seattle.” He glanced over at Peter, a beatific smile on his face. “We’ll get to play together, Pete.” He looked around the room, to make sure no one had overheard them. “When I get up to Seattle in a couple years, we could even be roommates and stuff.”

“That would be great.” Peter agreed. Just thinking about it, the two of them on the same team and living together so they could hang out and remain as close as ever, brought a smile to his face. “We’ll be together so much, you’ll get sick of me, man.” Peter joked.

“You say that like I haven’t made it almost two decades without getting sick of you.” James laughed. “Try me.”

“I’m glad it worked out for both of you boys.” Mr. Potter smiled, covering his mouth with his hand. “It’ll help us all, as parents, to know that you two are keeping an eye on each other. Won’t it?”

Peter’s mom nodded, looking fondly at the boys. “It sure will. I’m so glad it worked out this way, for all of us.”

“We’ve got quite a bit to celebrate tonight.” Mr. Potter said. “James has been drafted, Peter’s about to sign a contract… Oh, wow, our boys are going to be at training camp together.”

“That’s all exciting.” Peter’s dad agreed. “I’m just wondering about the practicalities. You have to find an apartment, something not too lavish, Pete--”

“Dad.” Peter groaned, wanting to drop his head in his hands at his dad’s predictability. “We’re celebrating, remember?”

“Dan’s got a point.” James’ mom cut in, casting a withering look at her husband as if expecting him to interrupt her. “While it’s all well and good that we’re celebrating, we do have to look ahead to the future. Now, you boys probably think you’re adults now and don’t need any parenting, but that’s why we’re here, to be realistic about things.”

“That’s right.” Peter’s dad nodded. “There’s a lot to think about beyond the fun stuff. I liked James’ idea about the two of you being roommates. That’s smart. You two can trust one another, already know you get along.”

“Money won’t be something to worry about at the moment, but careers can end at any time. You can only ensure a good future for yourself, and any family you might have in the future, if you start saving now and live well within your means.” James’ mother added. “It’s important that you’re responsible with your money and don’t blow it all on useless things.”

“You can have my money.” James said glumly. “I don’t care about all this stuff, I just want to play.”

“Well, that’s why you have me.” His mother said, disregarding James’ expression and tone entirely. “To focus on these things so you can… ‘just play’, like you said.”

“That’s it, that’s it, all this can be done elsewhere.” James’ father said, reaching over to squeeze his wife’s hand lightly in warning. For all his wife’s talent at stomping all over hopes and dreams in the name of realism, he was equally talented at shutting her down in the quietest, gentlest way possible. “We’ve got months to go before the boys have to report to camp and even then, we don’t know where it’ll go from there. Pete could end up in Portland in the fall and James could be heading back to Red Deer. If we plan with Seattle in mind immediately, we might lose track of other things. The most important thing to keep in sight is that this night is supposed to be about the boys and their future, not squabbling about rent and apartments and money. Right, boys?”

“Absolutely, yeah.” Peter beamed at the other man, wanting to thank Mr. Potter profusely for intervening in his usual calm manner. “Well said.”

“To the boys.” Peter’s mom said, eyes shining as she raised her water glass in a toast. “And their future.”

“And at least one Cup. Minimum.” Peter added, earning a playful swat from his mom.

“At least one.” James grinned. “I think we can pull that off.”

The group toasted, glasses clinking merrily as the topic turned to other things. Conversation shifted, with the parents chatting easily, which allowed Peter to gently kick James’ leg under the table, catching his attention.

“It’s gonna be great, Jamie.” Peter said, quietly enough so they wouldn’t be overhead. “Just you wait.”

“We’re going to be the best duo the league’s ever seen.” James promised, eyes bright. “We’re going to be the greatest ever.”

* * *

Peter’s path getting to the NHL had been filled with its own set of bumps and bruises, something he reflected on once he was officially signed with the Seattle Metros.

It started, like a lot of things do, with money. His parents had scrimped and saved and tried to shield him from the reality that they weren’t as well off as some of the other families ever since he’d first put on a pair of skates. They’d done their best for him, putting him first even when he’d just been a kid fooling around on the ice, before he’d found the grit and determination to make it all the way or die trying, with James at his side.

College had been another detour. A privileged one, he knew because college wasn’t cheap and took a hell of a lot more effort than he liked. But after going undrafted, he’d gone to the University of Denver, settled in on the hockey team there, out to prove that not picking him up had been a mistake. He’d done more on the partying end of things than studying, but he’d made it through, built some lasting friendships and managed to learn and grow as a player, pushing to better himself, to make sure all this meant something when all was said and done.

He had something to show for it now, with his foot in the door as a Metro, but the best was yet to come. Playing with James would be a amazing in itself, something they’d dreamed of as kids, sure, but seemed far off as they got older and reality set in. Now that it was actually happening, he almost had to pinch himself, and couldn’t stop smiling when he woke up in the morning and remembered where he was in his life, and how things were shaping up.

Peter knew there was more to come. Winning a cup with James, playing with Remus Lupin, who’d just come to Seattle from Detroit, and Ted Tonks from Philadelphia. He was eager to get to know the guys, to make friends and see what they could make happen together. His mind went over the list of players again and again, always coming back to James, to the hope that they’d be playing on a line together and all that was in store for them both.


	3. Sirius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tonight’s my night and I make the rules.”
> 
> “And what are the rules?” Regulus asked, an impish grin spreading across his face. The light in his eyes, identical to Sirius’, danced.
> 
> “We’re only going to be happy.” Sirius said, giving up all pretenses of formality and throwing himself forward across the mattress into his brother’s lap, head ending up lodged between Regulus’ arm and thigh. “You’re going to get your sweaty, dirty feet out of my gorgeous face, and we’re just gonna chill. Have a night in.”

Sirius Black knew he wasn’t someone to be fucked with.

He’d known that for a long time -- from childhood, he’d been told by his parents that he’d had a talent for gross overconfidence and overreacting to the most minor of inconveniences with theatrics beyond compare. He didn’t mind that, though -- his tendency to yell and scream at the smallest provocation meant he wasn’t often messed with or bossed around, and the few who dared were quickly shown the error of their ways. He was quite comfortable where he was, thank you very much, and didn’t take well to efforts to rock the boat.

So naturally, when James Potter’s name left Albus Dumbledore’s mouth, Sirius Black was fuming.

“They chose Potter over you?” Severus shook his head, eyeing the other boy warily. “Ridiculous.”

“Yeah.” Sirius said, barking out a high pitched, confused laugh. “Wow. That’s a surprise, isn’t it?”

“He shouldn’t even be up here.” Severus muttered bitingly.

“Shut up, man, it’s not that bad.” Sirius elbowed Severus in the ribs. “I know the two of you have some beef or something. Leave that out of it. He’s got talent, and if he fucks up, well, I just look that much better, don’t I, Reg?”

“Yeah.” Sirius’ younger brother, Regulus, agreed, tucking a long lock of hair behind his ear self-consciously. He seemed almost surprised that Sirius would bother with him, with Severus around, and Sirius shifted a little closer to him, hoping it would be enough of a peace offering. “He’s alright, I guess. Did well with you at World Juniors.”

“Fuck yeah.” Sirius grinned. “We tore it up.”

“Really?” Severus drawled. “How much of that was you and how much of that was him, though?”

“Don’t talk shit, you weren’t even on our line.”

George McPhee ascended the stairs, along with an entourage of Vegas front office staff, and Sirius sat up straighter in his seat, adjusting his tie. He couldn’t see Vegas passing him over, still couldn’t understand the fact that Seattle had. Potter was talented, and a sweet, genuine kid besides, but he wasn’t Sirius. He wasn’t incredible.

Sirius was standing before his name left McPhee’s mouth, exchanging hurried, awkward embraces with his miffed looking parents before sweeping Regulus off his feet.

“Congrats, Black!” Severus said over the noise.

Sirius reached back to shake Snape’s hand before jogging over to where the handler was waiting on the stairs, barely restraining himself from running. It almost didn’t matter that he’d been taken second now that he’d been taken at all -- Sirius was alight with boundless joy, brimming with energy. The world was his, for a moment, and he was king of everything bright and wild and free.

“You’re nothing like the last guy.” His handler remarked. “He seemed like he was about to piss himself, coming down the stairs.”

“That’s the charm of the game.” Sirius said, as they reached the foot of the stairs that lead up to the stage. He could see his future stretching out in front of him, a bright, empty highway to success, all his for the taking. “No two of us are the same.”

* * *

Sirius spotted Severus in the crowd, standing next to a tall, dour looking pair that must be his parents and tore away from his own parents, running toward him.

“Sev!” He exclaimed as he threw his arms around his friend’s neck, nearly bowling Severus over in his excitement. “LA! Nice! Holy shit, man!” He stood back, holding Severus at arm’s length, adjusting the wrinkles in his black and white jersey. “Looks clean, man. Looks good. Really suits you.”

“What about you? Vegas, Black. You look excited enough for all of us, so I guess I don’t even need to ask, huh?” Severus laughed, looking Sirius over.

“Vegas has a solid team and they’re winners, so they’re alright by me.” Sirius grinned. “Nice city too. Sick logo. A functional defense corps. That’s all a guy could want.”

“Man, that was wild, though.” Severus shook his head. “Felt like it was crawling by and going way too fast at the same time.”

“They picked you third and you’re kicking up this much of a fuss?” Sirius teased. “Wow, impatient much?”

“Right, and you weren’t impatient in the slightest.” Severus drawled.

“Hey, I was cool. Cool as a cucumber. What’s cooler than a cucumber? I was _that_ cool.” Sirius laughed. “Potter’s alright. Good kid, works hard. I’m glad he got the spotlight for a bit. We’ve been hogging it all year, so it’s a good idea to let somebody else get noticed for a bit. You know what I always say, too many eyes means you can’t have any fun.”

“I’ve never heard you say that even once.” Severus pointed out. “And Potter...we’ll see about him, won’t we? Doubt he can live up to going first, though.”

“Come on, that’s too harsh.” Sirius spotted James Potter as the words left his mouth, chattering away to one of the forwards from the Pioneers’ latest championship team. He couldn’t remember his name, but his face had been everywhere over the last few weeks, his signing highly anticipated. If Potter knew him, he was headed to Seattle. That’d be a loss for the rest of the league. “Hey, maybe we should go over and talk to him. Congratulate him or something. I mean, we didn’t get to talk much during the picture, and he seemed a little spooked anyhow.”

“I guess. If you really want to.” Severus grumbled. “You’re right, though. He was like a deer in headlights.” He laughed. “Don’t see how he’ll hold up under any pressure.”

“Maybe I should go over on my own, later.” Sirius said with a sigh. For the year and a half he’d known Severus, he’d never heard him be this nasty to someone else. “What’s even going on with you two? I know you’ve gotten into a few fights, but jeez. If the guy’s scared, whatever. Today’s a big day and anyone would be.”

“I’m not here to be everyone’s friend.” Severus shrugged. “Simple as that. You wanna pal around with Potter, be my guest, man.”

“But you’re here to be my friend, so you might as well quit with the attitude.” Sirius countered. “Come on, man. This is a big day. Let’s not waste it getting annoyed over shit.” He threw an arm around Snape’s shoulders. “You got anybody else here with you other than the parents?”

“Couple guys from my high school came. They had to get back, though, so now it’s just me and my parents.” Severus shook his head. “Lucky me. At least your brother’s still around here somewhere.”

“Yeah, Reg’s chilling with some of my buddies. Knows them well, and the parents are being a nightmare, so he’s keen on not being involved in whatever that is.” He motioned vaguely in the direction of his parents, who were busy adopting increasingly ridiculous expressions of disdain at being forced to mingle with people without obscene amounts of money. “Wait, hold on, I figured with how much you talked about that Evans chick, she’d be around for this. Girl problems? Cause I can totally hit on her for you, if you need help.”

“That’s the dead last thing I need.” Severus groaned, nudging him. “Apparently she had better shit to do than be here for me. Who needs the trouble, anyway? There’ll be plenty of girls in LA who aren’t stuck up bitches.”

“I mean, you’ll be famous too, so there’s that.” Sirius nudged him back. “Gotta use all that money and fame for something, huh? You’ll be able to get a decent girl with that, I’d say.”

“Just decent.” Severus snorted. “You’re so charitable.”

“You’ll need a better face if you want more than decent.” Sirius grinned. “Money can help with that too, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, man. Can always count on you to lift me up.” Severus rolled his eyes, shoving at Sirius.

“No problem.” Sirius said. “Always glad to help.”

* * *

“So, Vegas.” Regulus said, awestruck.

In the relative safety of their hotel room, he was much less guarded. He looked younger, with his hair flopping down into his eyes instead of slicked back, like it had been all evening for the draft. It framed his face in a strangely angelic way, and that, coupled with the fact that he was trying quite hard to repurpose one of Sirius’ old Sarnia hoodies as a pajama shirt made him look much smaller than his seventeen years.

“Bright lights. Big city. What do you think?” He rested his chin on his palm, staring up at Sirius with the same adoring expression he always had. “Good fit?”

“It’ll be a better fit once they pick you up next year.” Sirius reached across what little distance separated them to tousle Regulus’ hair. “Then we can be together again. Teammates. Us against the world.”

“Probability’s against that.” Regulus, ever the realist, said. “Thirty-two teams in the league now, Sirius. No way in hell does Vegas get me. And that’s if I get picked at all.” He sighed, disappointment creeping into his voice. “Especially not if they’ve got you. You’re too good.”

“Probability also says I’m being sent back down to junior, and we know I’m better than that.” Sirius tapped the tip of Regulus’ nose. “Got you there, Da Vinci. Now quit thinking. Tonight’s my night and I make the rules.”

“And what are the rules?” Regulus asked, an impish grin spreading across his face. The light in his eyes, identical to Sirius’, danced.

“We’re only going to be happy.” Sirius said, giving up all pretenses of formality and throwing himself forward across the mattress into his brother’s lap, head ending up lodged between Regulus’ arm and thigh. “You’re going to get your sweaty, dirty feet out of my gorgeous face, and we’re just gonna chill. Have a night in.”

“A night in?” Regulus teased, trying to mash his foot into Sirius’ nose. “Mister Party Boy wants a night in with me?”

“Shut up.” Sirius said, gagging. “Get your stupid foot away--” He pushed Regulus away from him just a little too hard, and Regulus fell onto the headboard, banging it against the wall.

They both froze, staring at each other in fear, and Sirius scrambled away from Regulus, trying his best to regulate his breathing as he stared at the door connecting their room to their parents. He couldn’t hear movement, but that didn’t mean they were coming. He shot a glance over at Regulus, who was cowering against the headboard, and nodded after thirty seconds had passed without a single noise.

“I’m kinda glad we don’t live with them all the time anymore.” Regulus said, keeping his voice low to avoid being overhead.

Sirius could barely hear him, standing just a few feet away, but he knew better than to ask his brother to speak louder. No one knew when the hawk on the other side of the wall would decide to start eavesdropping. Sirius hated her more than anything else in the world, more than losing, more than coming in second on the most important day of his life to James Fucking Potter, who he knew to be quite a good player, but still resented just a touch more than he should.

“In a few years”, Sirius said hoarsely, “we won’t have to live with them at all. You and me against the world, remember?”

“Yeah.” Regulus smiled, though it was weak and hesitant. “You and me against the world. In Vegas.”

“That’s more like it.” Sirius tiptoed back to the bed, satisfied that whatever threat he had been anticipating had passed, and threw himself at Regulus again, collecting a string of surprised giggles as his reward. “C’mon, man. My night, my rules.”

“We’ll be great in Vegas.” Regulus said fervently. “The same way we’ve always been.”

“The same way we’ve always been.” Sirius added. “We’re going to be the greatest duo hockey’s ever known. Henrik and Daniel Sedin. Malkin and Crosby. Ovechkin and Backstrom. Messier and Gretzky. Sirius and Regulus Black.” He spread his hands out, like he was visualizing a movie screen. “Can’t you just see it, Reg? Us changing the world?”

“Yeah.” Regulus whispered, so much hope imbued in that one world that Sirius thought it might just make all their wishes come true. “Yeah. I really can.”


End file.
